CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next day, the land got less rocky, and they started heading toward the water again. Jasper wanted to keep on the right track, not get them turned around again, but something was spooking Tabitha as they went. Her fur would bristle, and every once in a while, she’d sniff at something and let out a low growl. The first couple of times, Slip seemed poised to fight whatever it was she was smelling, and even Jasper tensed, but after the first hour, neither of them thought much of it.
The burbling noise that let them know they’d made their way to the water was a welcome sound. When they broke through the trees and saw it, Jasper realized the bank here was higher; the water was a good ten feet below, narrower here than it was downstream, rushing faster. They could still follow from up here.
Beside them, Tabitha started to growl again.
“What is that dog growling at now?” Jasper asked.
She shot forward into the brush and Slip followed close behind. “Do you think she can hunt better than she can fish? We can send her out into the woods for our dinner. Get us some rabbits or a goose.”
Jasper’s laugh caught in his throat when he heard the growl. Not Tabitha this time. No, this time it was a cougar.
Tabitha came crashing back out of the brush, teeth bared, barking. The cougar came with her, the growl in the back of her throat becoming a scream. Slip threw himself backward, slamming into Jasper. They both ended up in a tangle on the ground while Tabitha and the cougar faced off.
The cat was full-grown, rangy, and mad by the looks of her. Her teeth and claws were sharp, built for tearing meat apart. She lunged toward Tab, front paws open like she was going to tear into the dog from both sides. Tab backed up and the cougar landed on the ground, a cloud of dust rising up around her. Tab advanced, snarling, and the cat sidestepped, growling low in her throat.
Jasper had lost his grip on his rifle when he fell, and he scrambled to get it while Slip got to his feet. But the rifle had fallen down the creek embankment, and before Jasper could decide whether to climb down and get it, Slip grabbed a rock and pitched it at the cougar’s head.
The cougar jerked her head toward him and let out another scream. The sound of it—Jasper wanted to throw himself down the embankment and run as fast as he could to get away. But the cougar swiped a paw at Tabitha and the dog yelped in pain and slammed to the ground, and Slip picked up another rock. This one connected, and the cougar stalked toward him, the scream simmering down to a rumble in her throat.
Slip Casey—the fool—really was going to be eaten by a cougar.
Jasper started to back up toward the embankment without the cougar noticing. Maybe he could get to the rifle. Maybe—
Slip fell to the ground and curled up, like maybe if he made himself small, the cougar would leave him be. But then he seemed to be pulling at his shoe, and did the fool really think he could use his boot as a weapon against—
Before Jasper could finish the thought, Slip uncurled himself, and in his hand was a gun.
Jasper froze.
Slip didn’t hesitate before shooting. One shot, two, and the cougar backed away quickly, her fur still bristled, her throat still growling, but like she knew whatever made that noise could kill her, she disappeared back into the brush.
Slip lowered his arms, then started to crawl toward Tabitha. “Aw, Tab, why’d you go and find a cougar?” he asked quietly.
Jasper had reached Slip’s side before he realized he was moving, grabbing the hand that still held the gun and forcing its fingers to let go their hold.
“Ow!” Slip said as Jasper wrested control of the revolver. “You ain’t gotta do that.”
Jasper surely did gotta, but he didn’t say that. Instead he stared down at the revolver in his hand.
He recognized this pistol. It was the one Hatch had shoved at Westin in the stage. He’d asked Slip about it, even searched him, but clearly he hadn’t done a good enough job.
“You had this the whole time?”
“I did,” Slip said. “Wasn’t about to give it up. And it’s a good thing I didn’t since we almost got eaten by a cougar.”
“You almost got eaten,” Jasper said without even really meaning to. He’d gotten comfortable with Slip over the last few days, found himself retorting without thinking about it, even sharing his thoughts when he did think about it. And the whole time, Slip had had a gun, waiting for the right moment to shoot. Jasper didn’t know what to think about that.
“I’m getting my gun,” he said, and then tucked the revolver into his belt. “And I’m keeping this one.”
“Then you’d better get better at taking on mountain lions,” Slip snapped back at him, petting Tabitha again.
Jasper wanted to ask if she was alright. Wanted to sink down next to her himself. But he’d let himself get too comfortable around Slip as it was. They didn’t need to both be worrying about the dog.
“You’re miserable with this thing anyway,” Jasper muttered. “Not sure how you missed that cat.”
“I wasn’t trying to shoot it.” His eyes were wide and horrified. “I just wanted it gone. Big, beautiful cat like that, why would I want to shoot it?”
Why indeed? Jasper didn’t say anything else, just retrieved his rifle from where it had fallen. He brushed the sandy soil from it and climbed back up again. Slip was where he’d left him, but Tabitha had climbed to her feet. She didn’t seem to be injured any worse than before. She seemed to be tolerating Slip poking at her, though when she saw Jasper, she walked over and stared up at him with those big brown eyes. She looked like a child asking her pa if he was mad at for her getting into a fight. He gave in and scratched behind her ears.
“The cat was probably headed for water,” he said. “Let’s get away from the creek for the night.”
You could have shot me,” Jasper said later. Tabitha’s head was on his knee, and she looked up at him, eyes quizzical. Slip, across their small fire, looked over at him with much the same look. “You had that revolver for days, and you could have shot me anytime.”
Slip shrugged his shoulders. “Not anytime. You were watching me pretty careful like.”
“Not that careful.” Jasper wondered if Slip had thought about doing it at the creek. He would have presented the perfect target then, standing on those slippery rocks, his back to Slip like he trusted him. One shot and he’d have ended up in the water. It wouldn’t even have had to be a fatal shot. He could have drowned as easily as bled to death.
“I told you before, I ain’t a killer. I don’t want to die, sure, but I don’t want to have to kill anyone else either.”
At last, Jasper believed him.